


The Love Of Her Own Kind

by ThreeAM



Category: Homestuck, Penelope (2006)
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, Penelope Spinoff Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3121208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeAM/pseuds/ThreeAM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And so the witch cast a terrible curse on the Harley household, decreeing that the next born daughter to a daughter of Harley would be disfigured with the face of a hound, and that only the love of her own kind, til' death do they part, will break the curse.</p><p>Now, after a hundred and fourty three years of pureblood Harley women failing to have daughters of their own, the curse would have left Jade Harley's mothers be, if it weren't for the invention of bone marrow babies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm writing yet another Dave Jade -- surprising noone. One day i'll write something that isn't a crossover, i swear. But i just saw this movie and thought it was so cute, so i couldn't resist. If you're like me and have stupidly specific affections for DaveJade crossovers, you can check out my completed Pac Rim one or the other one i have in progress, in a Soul Eater universe. Other than that, i hope you enjoy this and i also hope you'll find this cute flick somewhere because it was SUPER nice. And it has James McAvoy in it.

Once upon a time, there lived a rich, proud family, named the Harleys. Like many families in Skaia they were old money, and things like blood and status mattered a lot to them. Blood and status are the root of many problems, which is where my story begins.

So about a century and a half ago, my great, great, great Grandpa had a fling with a lowly peasant girl named Clara. He was very drunk and got her pregnant, and when she found out she came to him for help. But poor Clara was so dreadfully ugly in the sober daylight that my Grandpa refused her, dropping her for a beautiful blueblooded lady more suitable to his status. And Clara dropped herself, too. Off a cliff.

Furious, Clara's mother, the town witch, came that night to cast a terrible curse on my family. The next Harley daughter born to a Harley daughter would be born with the face of a hound, and only the love of her own kind, til death do they part, would break the curse.

As luck would have it, boys dominated the chromisome contest in the Harley family, and every time a woman was born into the family, she grew up to only have sons. So for a century and a half, no woman born a Harley had a daughter, thus failing to fulfil the curse's requirements. So, when Condesca Harley married another woman, the household ghosts (who were the only ones who would plausibly remember the curses of a crazy old woman on the porch 140 or so years ago) wouldn't have expected them to have any Harley daughters, either.

Meenah-Condesca (or Condesca as she likes to be called) married her handmaiden Damara back in the 80's, and since then the couple adopted three children -- Jake, Jane, and John, oldest to youngest respectively. But when scientists were testing a new method of birth -- using bone marrow to create an embryo -- it gave my parents the opportunity they needed to finally have their own child.

So, on a stormy evening in the nursery of our old family mansion, my mothers screamed and the midwife nearly dropped me when i, the first daughter of a Harley daughter in a hundred and fifty years, emerged as advertised. With a turned-up nose that faded into a black, bumpy dogs nostrils at the end, and a pair of finely haired dog ears atop my head. 

And so my life began. Teething was a nightmare when my literal canines came through, and though at first she was replused by my nubby, rotted-strawberry nose and night hairless ears, Condesca grew used to my looks as my white furred ears became softer and fluffier and the eyelashes that framed my moss green eyes grew as dark as my human hair. If i were not so dreadfully unnatural, she would tell me as her own special way of trying to make me feel better, i would be quite pretty. 

Old Grandpa Harley told my mothers about the curse he'd heard of as a boy, and from then on my life was spent locked in my room, preparing me for the day that i would be old enough to marry and "til death do we part," break the curse. Mother claimed she miscarried the baby to anyone who asked, and fired all the staff of the house, save for my nurse, Ms. Paint. 

Despite my ugliness, my brothers and sister loved me, though they weren't allowed to talk about me at school. Sometimes i would do their homework for them for fun, and without them growing up might have been more lonely than it was. 

When i turned eighteen, my parents hired Nepeta, from a dating agency, and set her to work finding rich blueblood boys (and some girls, though i unfortunately took little fancy to those) to suit me. That was four years ago, and every single suitor was lovely until they saw my face. My stupid, no-good face. 

Every one was forced to sign a gagging order before they left, so my secret could me kept from the world until my face was normal. But she could not hide it forever, and thats more or less how my story begins.

My name is Jade Harley, i am 22 years old, i have never been to a bar before, i'm a Sagittarius, i want to go into horticulture, i love physics and astronomy, and i have a face that has sent people running and jumping through windows to escape me.


	2. The Getaway

"So, Miss Harley, that is why i cannnot bear for you to live in the shadows any longer. No matter how terrible you may think you are, you have grown so fond to my heart that i am sure your appearance could not deter my love. Please, let me in." The young Ampora spoke the words so sweetly that Jade blushed, her face just inches from his on the other side of her window. For a moment, she could pretend that he truly was looking into her eyes, that she wasn't on the other side of a two-way mirror and that he was looking at her face with the comfort that he was looking at his own reflection. But it came time for her answer, and the illusion ended.

Jade stood from her chair in her bedroom, perched so she could look comfortably into the study nextdoor through her 'window'. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to prevent the light on her side allowing her guests to see her through the glass. The floor was a worn wood, covered in scratches from many years of riding bicycles in circles in the confines of the space. A red cardboard tree stood in one corner, dream catchers (most hand-made) hung from its branches. A vanity piled with jewelery stood under a layer of dust in one corner -- Jade didn't have too many occasions to wear jewels. In a half-hexagonal annex, her canopied bed sat under paintings of flowers and clouds on the ceiling, and a large closet packed with clothes stood partially hidden by a hand-painted, floral folding screen. In one corner, her pet malamute slept curled up on his bed, and she paused to smile fondly at the other half of her two-man 'pack'. Drawings covered the walls, the oldest nearly 20 years old now, and served as a museum of her artistic progression. Most of the drawings were of her siblings and mothers, some of Ms. Paint, a few of her room and a scarce number of them were of her guests, who had come to her like the one she was about to show herself to.

The room was elevated to allow her to be sitting at head height of the people in the study, so she could be comfortable while they spoke. Now, Jade's short heeled mary-janes clacked on the short flight of steps that took her down to the floor height of the study, where Eridan Ampora was now waiting in anticipation. A gentle nudge on the rectangular wall panel after turning the latch was all it took to make the panel of bookshelf on the other side of the wall swing outward, allowing her to walk into the study from the secret entry.

Her suitor did not disappoint, which is to say he disappointed as tens of suitors had before. He took one look at her upturned nose with its coal black end and sinewy shape, and took a step back. He saw the fangs that forced the overbite of her rapidly fading smile, and cried out. And he saw her ears, covered in dense fur and twitching as he made noise, and that was all he needed to bolt for the door.

"John!" Jade cried out, marching to the door in a huff and calling down the hall to her brother, but he was already flying down the hall after the escape artist. John, Jade's adopted brother, often took turns with her other brother Jake in being the runner who chased down the escapees. Once they were caught, they were invited back inside to sign a gag order, legally binding them from speaking of what they saw in the Harley mansion that day. Once John disappeared around the corner in his pursuit, Jade heard the approach of once of her parents and turned to spot the one they called Mother, standing with her arms folded and a stern look on her red-lipped face.

"Honey, how many times must we tell you? Do not, ever, emerge!" Mother was promptly joined by Mom, who was adorned much more brightly than Mother and stood taller.  
Jade looked between her parents and leaned against the door frame of her study. "Well, he has to see sometime, Mother. He's hardly going to marry me without seeing me, is he?"  
"He ain't gonna marry you when he sees you, either. Hun, please. Next time, keep your shit in line or we'll never find a solution for..." Mom gestured vaguely, earning herself a look from Mother.  
"My face? You can't solve a face, Mom. You just have to.... John?" Jade was distracted from her sentence when she saw John reach the top of the landing, panting with exertion. "Where's Eridan?"

The look on John's face said it all, and their mothers flew into a frenzy, barking commands for Ms. Paint to get the car and prattling to a very startled Nepeta as she came to see what the commotion was about. Mom ushered John and Ms. Paint downstairs to drive out and try and catch he guy, Mother told Jade to stay put, Jade protested but was drowned out by Mom screeching that she'd been saying all along that they should make them sign the gag before they go in to speak with her. Her words falling on deaf ears, Jade retreated into her study and shut the door, trying to calm the annoyance by picking out her favorite book. As much as she knew she should be panicking about an escaped young man who knew of her existence, she was so sick of the routine of the last four years of matchmaking that the change was almost refreshing, and so it was that the ones who seemed to be most stressed about this event were her parents.

//Eridan//

"So let me get this straight," the officer behind the desk jeered as Eridan stood before him. "You went on a blind date with a werewolf?"  
"No! Yes. It sounds silly when you put it that way! Look her family is crazy. If i'd stayed there they would have had me killed." Eridan slammed his palms on the desk. "I'm not crazy, you have to believe me!"  
"Oh i believe you, kid. Don't worry, the boys and i'll send our pet vampire after her!" The other officers, who had been poorly pretending not to be listening in, roared with laughter, and Eridan felt the heat rise up his necks to his cheeks.   
"Don't you know who I am? If my father hears about this--"  
"You're a spoiled brat. If i wrote up a report on an 'ugly bitch' my officers would be pulling in every second woman in this city. Get outta our hair, kid."

Eridan sneered at him, then turned on his heel and left. He couldn't believe how obtuse they were! If only they'd seen, if only he had proof, if only--

"Oi, buddy. You're the Ampora kid, yeah?" A man in a gold and brown, diamond patterned jacket and brown pants leaned against the wall outside the station. Eridan eyed him with mistrust.  
"What's it to you?"  
"Nothin'. Just wonderin'." 

But the man wasn't 'just wondering' as he'd claimed, for the next morning when Eridan set foot outside his condo to pick up the newspaper, he nearly squealed with fury. The front page read 'AMPORA HEIR SUFFERS NERVOUS BREAKDOWN' and then, 'Eridan Ampora bursts into police station with claims of werewolf sighting. See page 14 for full story'

"No!" He exclaimed, and turned, with his purple bath robe twirling, to throw the paper onto the sidewalk... only for it to land in front of a worn pair of shoes that were probably nice, once. His eyes followed the man's body up to his face, hidden in shadow under a broad brimmed hat. The man was dressed in black, like a 1940's gangster or something. And he was staring right at him. "What do you want, you old geezer?  
"Same thing you want, as a matter of fact. Heard ya' had a run in with the wolfmothers and their spawn." His accent was thick, only further enforcing his dumb gangster look.  
Eridan eyed the man with suspicion. "You know about her?"  
"Yeah kid, which means i believe you. I work for that paper and while i can't unprint your story, i can publish an expose to clear your name. How's that sound?"  
"..Okay, say i agree to help you. What do we gotta do?"  
"Don't mock me, kid. And we need to get you back in there so we can get a sneaky photo of her." The guy leaned against the pillar which supported the white marble awning above Eridan's fine townhouse, and produces a cigar to light.   
"Oh, nonono. If i go back in there i'll be killed. I don't w-wanna die!" Eridan gulped, tacking a step back towards his door.  
The man rolled his eyes and drew the cigar away from his lips. "Alright, alright kid don't get yourself all worked up, the stammering is unbecoming. We'll just find some other blueblooded brat to go in for us."  
"How? We can't bribe them, they've all got plenty of money, and nobody in their right mind would stick around her for money anyway." 

The dude smiled then, looking up at Eridan with a glint in his eye that suggested a dangerous wisdom. "Not unless we can find a washed-out family with a kid who needs the money, yeah?"  
Eridan raised his eyebrows, impressed and a little scared. "Alright, i'm in."  
"I know. I'll get back to you once i've reel in a chump. Catchya'." He turned on the heel of his worn show and began to stroll away, and Eridan took a step out onto the sidewalk.  
"W-wait! I didn't catch your name!"  
"I didn't throw it," the man sighed, the looked over his shoulder, the smoking cigar trailing a grey stream into the morning air. "Call me Slick. I'll be in touch."

//Slick//

The club was about as cheerful and pleasant-smelling as a place full of unwashed gamblers and drunks could be. The basement casino was poorly lit, probably to hide the even poorer decor. A wiry old man sat at the desk, and Slick wished they at least had the decency to hire a pretty lady instead. 

"Can i help you, fella?" The man asked, his voice croaky from many long years of nicotine.   
Slick took off his hat and glanced around the room before replying. "Yeah, actually. I'm lookin' for someone."  
The old man sighed. "They always are. This mystery person got a name, smart guy?"  
Slick wasn't sure if that was his attempt at patronization or flirting. "Max Campion. Heard he lives here."  
"Just about yeah," the old man chuckled, then gestured to the tables to their right, where half a dozen groups played poker. "Table three," the old man looked away dismissively, apparently already bored with the conversation.  
"Thanks, ol' fella."

As Slick looked over to the table, he saw a young man rise from his seat next to an old woman and an oily man scambling on the floor for split chips. As he approached, he pulled on his frankly grimy jacket. And that was a lot coming from Slick. 

"Hey, kid," Slick flagged the blond down, and the guy, who was a big enough douche to wear shades inside, slowed his pace to raise an eyebrow at Slick. "Got an offer for ya."  
"Does it involve women?" The kid asked, apparently thinking himself quite the comedian. He wasn't half bad looking, at least, but it was hard to judge in the dark with his shades on.   
Slick shrugged. "Sorta. So you're Max Campion, right? The name's Slick, from the London Times. Well you're in luck because i'm your own personal fuckin cupid today. I got young lady that needs her photograph taken."

The kid gave him a quizzical look, raising his head, and as it caught the light better, Slick could see the guy couldn't be anywhere past his early twenties. What he'd mistaken for age and/or ugliness was a layer of dirt and a tired face. "You got the wrong guy, buddy." His accent sounded as though he'd spent some time overseas, a local accent that was tainted with strange vowel pronunciation. Probably America, Slick guessed. Well, at least they had something in common, but he refrained from trying to connect with the kid when he saw the blond was turning to climb the stairs to the exit.  
"Would you still be the wrong guy if i said the picture nets you five grand?" Slick took a wad of bills out of his coat pocket and waved them so that when the kid looked over his shoulder, he could see he wasn't bluffing.

Bribing a kid with a gambling addiction was easier than taking candy from a baby. Max was already turning to face him, a look of conflict on his face as he turned to gaze at Slick. After a long pause, the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Pretty expensive photograph."  
"Yeah, secret photoshoots tend to be. You in?"   
"Sure, buddy. Sounds like a walk in the park."  
"Yeah, well, wait until you see her face." Slick picked up a notepad and pen from the old receptionist's desk and began scrawling an address on it. "Now c'mere so i can give you the damn details, and do NOT be late."


	3. Infiltration

Slick leaned on the back of his dingy, black van, squinting down the street while Eridan stood impatiently beside him. The only sound that broke to tranquility of the quiet, midday street was the young blueblood's highly polished show tapping impatiently on the asphalt. Just as Slick was about to knock the kid out to stop the tapping, he saw their guy coming down the sidewalk at a brisk walk.

"Took ya' long enough, Max," Eridan jeered, emphasizing the name as if Maxes were a thing to be mocked.  
Slick held out a hand to silence the kid as Max approached them, so he could appraise the guy's appearance. He looked as if he had showered and smelled of aftershave, but he also still had that tired look on his face. 

"Where've you been, kid? All the others are inside already and you look like shit." Slick clicked his tongue in annoyance after he'd finished, handing the kid a small bottle of cologne, which he refused with an open palm.  
"I still had chips left. Now what is it i'm supposed to be doin' here again?" 

Slick held out a jacket to the kid, pinstiped black with red inner lining. When he opened the buttons and pulled it off the hanger, he revealed a camera hidden inside the breast pocket, a hole cut out for the lens. "We need you to woo the Princess out of her tower, so to speak. This camera is triggered by a mechanism in the arms, so when you raise your arms up to say, shoulder height, it'll take a snap."  
Max looked confused. "This sounds kinda shady, what kind of picture are you tryin' to take that--"  
"Gross!" Eridan scoffed at him, then stepped forward to insert himself physically into the conversation. "This girl is so ugly that everyone who goes in there is gagged so they won't taddle and ruin the Harley reputation. I escaped but nobody believes me, so we're clearing my name by leaking her picture!" He sounded cunning, as if he'd come up with the plan. Slick elbowed him back.  
"Nobody believes that you saw an... ugly.... girl????" Dave asked incredulously as he shrugged the new jacket on and passed Slick his.  
"No! She'd not just ugly, obviously. She honest to god has a dog's face. Fangs an' all. If you let her get too close she'll rip out your throat."  
"Sounds terrifying. Look i'm sure i'll be fine, i'll just walk in, wave my arms, leave. Easy." Dave checked his hair in the window of the van, ignoring Slick's frown in the reflection.

"No, not easy. According to my... sources, she usually likes to talk first before she shows her ugly mug. So whatever you do, don't say anything to piss her off until you're sure you got her. Not only that, but usually they do one-on-one interviews but this time, they're bringing in a group. Try and use this cover how you can and try your best not to run screaming. Then, when you're done, you can walk away from it all with heavier pockets, deal?" Slick folded his arms. The kid looked alright, he supposed. Tomorrow he'd bring some coffee for the kid and maybe some hair gel, but for now it would suffice.  
"Deal," Max replied, flashing the first shit-eating grin (or any kind of smile, for that matter) he'd seen on the guy. Then, he turned on his heel and strolled away, toward the towering Harley estate at the end of the street.

//Dave//

Dave found the front door to the house open, and when he walked in, a small woman with short-cropped hair and a green knit dress with a cat's face on it was shuffling through some papers. Upon hearing his entry, she looked up at him and tilted her head, as if wondering who he was. Before she could ask, Dave continued to stroll on through. "Max Campion. Agency sent me," was all he said to her. He heard her mutter something about up the stairs and third door to the right, and that was all he needed. 

The lady didn't question him, and he sighed with relief. So, he wasn't Max Campion -- that oily douche in the casino had mistaken Dave for one of the other regulars he played poker with. The real Max was a twenty-nine year old chain smoker, but it wasn't like Max would find out... right? It would be simple. He'd get the picture, pocket the money, and then get on with wasting it all on gambling like he'd always done with what little money he had. 

Behind the third door on the right, a sizeable study and sitting room was filled with young men signing some kind of forms. He heard them chatting amongst each other, questioning how ugly the girl must be to warrant a gag order, but was distracted by a plump, short young woman thrusting a form like the others in front of him before he could get very far past the door.

"Please, sign this before we proceed with... um. Proceedings." The young lady followed this up by fumbling with her stack of papers to hand him a pen.  
Dave took the form and skimmed it quizzically. Well, he couldn't exactly sign a legal document as 'Max Campion' but he doubted they would look too closely at the signature as long as the form was signed. He leaned the paper on the wall and quickly scribbled the date and his signature, then ticked a bunch of boxes and strolled back over to give the paper back, as others were doing.

"So, i thought they'd at least give their staff uniforms," Dave commented off-handedly as he handed back the document. "Not that poodle skirts are bad, but i could definitely question that cat dress downstairs." The girl only laughed.  
"Oh, no, Nepeta's not an employee of our family!" The girl told him, thanking the boys as they gave her their papers in turn.  
"Wait. 'Our' family? You're a Harley? You look nothing like..."  
"Yes, i'm a Harley," she said, narrowing her eyes as if daring him to continue with his sentence. "Jane Harley."  
Dave raised his eyebrows. "So... your sister?"  
"Is the only one who isn't adopted, dear. Science has really brought us far, hasn't it?" She chuckled, as if enjoying confusing him with their complicated family tree. "Enjoy the party. Just try to remember, she really is lovely."

Jane then set off to stroll around the room, making sure all the papers were handed in. As she was leaving, Dave stretched, forgetting his camera, and the faint but audible sound of a shutter went off several times, apparently not liking being stretched so far. He panicked and looked around, quickly falling behind a couch behind the back of the room. "Shit. Fuck. Shit. God damn it." He muttered as he fiddled with the strings, unhooking them and re-attaching them carefully. He only got halfway through this, however, when the room went quiet. 

For a moment, he thought the others had seen his ridiculous dive or heard the camera, but the subsequent stampede of running, screaming young men fleeing the room in a frenzy had him thoroughly confused, before he remembered why he was here. But by the time he thought to spring up and snap the mystery girl, he heard the soft sound of a door closing.

Cautiously, after about a minute of lying there like a human lint brush for the carpet of the study, Dave sat up and looked around the room. "The shit...?" He muttered, expecting to see the second door he'd heard, only to see a line of book shelves across the far wall, broken only by a low, white marble fireplace with a large, decorative mirror sitting at about chest height. Peculiar. But he had bigger matters to attend to. 

Like appraising how valuable some of these very fancy-looking hardcovers might be.

//Jade//

"Honestly, Jade! Just when i thought you were showing some tact!" Mom was pacing the kitchen, while Jade sat comfortably at the breakfast table, munching on a candy apple leisurely. "Ugh, why do you eat this junk!? Your face is bad enough, you don't need diabetes too!" She leaned over and snatched the stick of the apple, then tossed it straight in the trash. Jade recoiled.  
"Hey! That was my last one!" She accused, standing abruptly so the chair scraped across the wooden floor. She stormed over to the counter, where Moms most recently used handbag lay. "Where's your card? I'm going out to buy some more!"  
Mom was there in an instant, holding the bag above her head and out of Jade's reach. "You certainly are not. Sit down, you can't go outside."  
"Yes i can, you just won't let me!"  
"With good reason!"

The commotion of their bickering drew Nepeta and Jane into the room, both looking on in discomfort as the two women argued. It was Jake, however, who was in the kitchen trying to unobtrusively score some instant noodles, that first cried out in surprise and pointed to the TV, which displayed a closed-circuit video feed of Jade's study.

"Someone's in there!"

That shut both of them up, and everyone in the room turned their eyes to the screen. A figure, blurry from the poor image quality, was examining the books on Jade's shelves, pulling them out and opening the covers.

"Did he see?" Mom asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.  
"Well the others saw!"  
"Maybe he wasn't in the room?" Jake offered, leaning over the bench with a packet of noodles sitting idle in his hands.  
Jane shook her head. "No, he was there. I talked to him."  
"He didn't leave?" Jade breathed, her stubby, coal nose nearly pressed against the screen.  
"Well, go! Before he leaves with your books, Jade!" Nepeta cried, being the first to spring into action, ushering Jade toward the kitchen door.

Within minutes she was creeping quietly into her dark bedroom, peering in both fascination and fear through the mirror. He was a tall fellow, though the elevated floor in her room still left her above him. When she was sitting at the desk below the window, though, she was a little more level. 

"Did you see?" She asked suddenly, spotting him leafing through a little red book of hers. At the sound of her voice coming through the rattly speakers in the study, the man nearly dropped the book in surprise. "Over here. The mirror," she added, a small amount of laughter at his confusion audible in her tone. He quickly regained his poise though.  
"Did i?" He replied, carefully closing the book in his hands. He was not a thoroughly groomed person, she supposed, but maybe that was part of his charm. Jade wasn't quite sure what exactly 'charm' entailed, though.  
"Probably not," Jade said with a forlorn sigh, though before he could comment she turned her attention to his hands. "Are you a fan of George Rockham?"

He stammered then, looking at the book in his hands as if torn. After a long pause, he sighed. "No, unfortunately. Gonna be honest, i figured these are all pretty nice lookin' first editions. Though they might fetch some dough," he sighed, looking in what she supposed was guilt at her mirror window.  
"So you're a fan of the money," she said, the growing dissapproval of her tone visibly disheartening him. He flopped down onto one of her scarlet leather loveseats.  
"Yeah, but the money's not such a big fan of me," he sighed, looking around the room before settling his head in her direction.

"Maybe you and the money just weren't meant to be?" She said quietly, which seemed to at least give him pause. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but in this room, there are about 350 or so first editions. 300 or so are worth 50,000 dollars. 50 or so are valued at 15,000 or around about that," she informed him, sitting straight-backed in her chair.  
Her companion whistled, raising one blond brow. "So i was right, huh?"  
"Afraid not. Just one is worth less than a hundred," she giggled, resting her chin on an upturned fist. "Bad luck, huh?"  
Dave suddenly stood, giving the mirror what she interpreted to be a sly, sideways glance. "But it's still your favorite, yeah?"

Jade sat back, the creaky complaint of her chair at the sudden movement making it to the microphone, and he laughed. Finally, Jade smiled to herself and relaxed. "Yeaaaap! The Dreamer. Used to read it aaaaall the time as a kid!"  
"Ah, that explains it. I mistook wear for age. My bad," he shrugged and carefully placed the book atop the coffee table in front of her sofas.  
Jade huffed. "So rude to my childhood favorite!" She made a show for loudly standing from her seat.  
"Unforgivable, truly," he retorted, folding his arms as she loudly stomped away in the next room.  
"Good day, mister..."  
"Max Campion."  
"Right. Good day, Mr. Campion!" She shouted, a little too loud, then opened her bedroom door and closed it again, without moving through it. Then, she watched.

He kept staring at her window with a slight smirk. "Jade?" She pressed her lips together, holding in a betraying giggle. "You there?" He tested again. She didn't reply.

Max then marched to her bookshelf, loudly grabbed a small stack of books, and briskly walked out the door of the study. Jade's smile faded for a moment, until he jumped back around the corner of the door and shouted "Gotcha!"

She slapped a hand over her mouth to hold in any reaction while she crept back to her desk. She watched as his look of triumph dwindled and he shrugged, then marched over to place his stack of books back on the table, and she couldn't help but be relieved. After that, he seemed to move to the door for real, and Jade couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"W-will you be back tomorrow?" She called after him, just as he was about to reach the door. He spun with the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, and he pointed to the mirror.  
"I knew it! Seriously though thank fuck you saved me from heinous embarrassment just now. Like you don't even know i would be walking in shame and--"  
"Max?" She prompted, raising her eyebrows. He seemed to catch himself with a look that puzzled her, then nodded.  
"See ya tomorrow, Jade." he confirmed with a nod of his head, then slipped out the door for real.

And Jade's gut exploded with butterflies so violently that she nearly vomited then and there.


	4. Blood

"Move that pawn a space forward, would you?" Jade's voice chimed, and "Max Campion" reached out to move the piece as indicated. It was strange they were calmly playing chess, him sitting atop a pile of books on a coffee table to be able to sit comfortably at the top of the fireplace, where the chess board sat. Strange because he knew whatever terrible face she supposedly had was inches from his on the other side of that mirror, and also because he'd spent the last five minutes singing loudly and badly to convince her that he wasn't musical. He moved a pawn forward two spaces to take the one she had just moved.  
"Hey, you can't do that!" She objected loudly, and he heard the sound of a finger jabbing at the glass.   
"Yeah, I can! You said pawns move two spaces!"   
"Only on their first turn, genius. Do something else."

Max sighed and moved his piece back, examining the board closely. He wasn't really a chess guy, and she was kicking his ass royally -- and not in the cool way where he pretended to be bad so she'd win. Not like how he'd pretended he couldn't play an instrument, because he wasn't entirely sure why he'd done that. After a moment, he moved his queen to take out her bishop.  
"Don't do that!" Jade protested, sounding amused. He looked up and tired not to smile.   
"Why not? Cause i'll win?"  
Jade huffed. "Nooo. Because i'll kill her! My knight is right there!"  
"Oh," he said, looking back down at the board. "Well, what if I asked you not to?"  
"I'd still kill her. You'd be kind of begging me to." At least she sounded sympathetic about it. He shrugged, and she sighed, "Okay, Knight to your Queen. That was dumb! Now you've lost your best piece."  
"Nah, I still have my king hangin' around," he held up the piece and wiggled it between his fingers. "He's pretty cool."  
"No, he's not, he can only move one space and if he dies, it's over!"  
"Well that's stupid. What kinda King doesn't fight?"  
"Maybe he's upset his Queen died and can't go on," she said, though there was teasing in her voice. "He really loved her, you know."

Max gave her (or, the glass where he thought she was) a look, one brow slightly raised and his head tilted, before a smile threatened at his lips. "Well in that case you may as well put an end to his and my suffering and we should do something else."  
"Oh?" Jade's chair squeaked. "Like what?"  
"Hmmm... ever had a beer? You're what, like twenty-three?"  
"Twenty-two," she corrected almost haughtily. "And yes, i've had a beer! Of course I have."  
"Ever had a beer on tap?" He pressed, one brow, darker blonde than his hair, rising above his shades.   
"....No."  
He chortled. "Then you've never had a real beer. Let's go."

Jade's chair squeaked more violently than usual. "What? Where?"  
"To a pub! There's this place downtown, an Irish joint, serves the best--"  
"I can't," she said, quiet enough to make it clear she regretted it, but firmly enough to stop him.  
"Why not? What's really stoppin' you? You can do what you want, you're an adult now."  
"My parents. Me. I'm stopping me. I can't go outside, i'd cause a scene." 

Max ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to lean back because the books would topple and he would die. "So? You can get around that. Come on Harley, you gotta get outta this house sometime."  
"I'm sorry. I just can't. Maybe after... i um..."  
"After what?"

There was a long pause, and he wasn't sure if he heard static of a soft sigh. "Can you promise to keep a secret?"  
"Don't have to, i'm kinda legally bound right now."  
"Right..." she sounded disappointed somehow. "Well, this may sound surprising but the rumours or conclusions you may have come across about my appearance have nothing to do with me. It's kind of like.... oh this is going to sound stupid. It's a curse."  
"...a curse."  
"Don't say it like that! It's real. This old crazy lady in the 1800's put a curse on my great great great whatever grandpa because he got a servant girl pregnant and then dumped her to marry someone of his... class. because his family didn't approve. They thought she was just crazy and it kinda became a family joke for a few generations that the first Harley daughter born to a Harley daughter would be born with.... would have an.... issue. My mothers are convinced that's what the problem is."  
"Wow... uh. That's a lot to take in but--"  
"I know it sounds crazy! Look, forget I said anything. It's just... this... Mom always says i'm not my face. It's not me."  
"Well as far as i'm concerned, not being born pretty isn't a curse, it's just the way it happens with people. Though most of those people don't lock themselves up because of it."  
"You don't... it's not like that. I'm not just ugly like a person."  
"But you are a person."

There was a long silence, and though he had his shades on and she sat invisible to him on the other side of the glass, he could practically feel her gaze on him and even the dark lenses couldn't hide him from it. After a moment, he shied away.

The young man rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers, feeling them sting with the dryness of sleep deprivation. "I mean...Even if you don't look like one, you should get to live like one right? And besi--- shit." He'd caught sight of the clock on the wall and checked his phone to make sure. "I gotta go, i'm sorry. I'm late."  
"Late?? For what?" She sounded both suspicious and hurt, and the likelihood that his words had often been used as an excuse to her by others dawned on him. How many times had people stood in this room, told a rich blueblood everything she wanted to hear, only to run screaming at the sight of her? To the point where she had to second guess their reasons for leaving? As if he didn't feel sorry for her already, he felt a pang of empathetic loneliness that almost tempted him to smash the glass. Instead, he reassured her and made his exit.  
"I'm meeting my friends at that pub I was talking about," he lied, though he smiled as reassuringly as he could. "See you tomorrow, yeah?"  
"Yeah. Tomorrow."

////

Tomorrow came, and "Max" found himself seated before a vertical piano. Though he'd never technically played a piano before, he owned a pretty flash keyboard and the piano felt familiar under his hands. Still, for a reason that escaped him, he went out of his way to play it all wrong.

"You are my suuuuuunshiiine my... my... shit..." he fumbled with is cords, playing the most off-key notes only to badly correct them mid-line. He'd been doing this for some time, with Jade's only input being her giggles. It felt good to make her laugh.  
"It's B-Flat," she said through the mic, and he adjusted his left hand to play a regular B, making sure his singing was off as well. "B-flat... no, on the right hand. On the right hand!"   
"I told you! I'm not musical.... you are my... sun...shiiiine my only... sun....shiiiiiiiit" he continued wailing.

His fingers slipped across keys, making a cacophony of inaccurate sounds so that he had no way of hearing a very faint creak and light footsteps, which would have otherwise been his only warning before he felt a cool, soft hand come to rest over his right. Gently but firmly, it adjusted his right hand to rest over the correct keys. A tense moment of absolute silence hung in the air before he very softly played the chord, and finally the correct note played. It was a nice note. Suddenly, perhaps even his favourite.

"You know, I do actually--" stupidly, he'd begun to turn, and all he saw was the black, upturned tip of a nose and some fuzzy mounds on top of her head and he jumped backwards in surprise, though he stumbled backwards over the piano stool and into a cabinet, rattling the contents and giving her enough time clap her hands over the lower half of her face.

Again, silence.

White, triangular folds of rigid flesh pressed back against her skull, and it took him only a moment to conclude they were some kind of animal ears. Her eyes were an unnerving shade of green, looking everywhere in the room but him. Slowly, she brought her hands away from her face, and he saw the inky black, rough skin that her normal skin faded into to form the tip of her nose. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words fell away, and he saw the small, four points of teeth on her upper and lower rows.

He blinked. He'd been expecting so much worse, because she wasn't ugly at all. Perhaps surprising at first, but she was also fascinating. Without meaning to, he lifted his arm to touch her nose, but in doing so he heard the faint click of the shutter. In his fixation, he'd forgotten about the camera and lifting his upper arm. "Shit!" he hissed, pulling his arm away, but she hadn't heard the shutter. He'd gotten the picture, but he regretted it so heavily when he saw the hurt on her face. He'd shied away -- not for the reasons she thought he had, but be may as well have for all the good telling the truth would do. "Wait. Ja-- hey!" 

She was storming towards the corner of the room, where the rightmost section of book shelf stood ajar. Secret door... of course. "It's okay Max. Just leave." She slammed the door, and he called out, but she didn't answer.

////

"Did you get it?" Slick was waiting at the van outside, and Max Fucking Campion approached with swift footsteps. He guessed that gig was up and he was back to being Dave Strider, the destitute fuckup.   
"Yeah, I got it. Here you go--" he reached into his pocket and ripped the body of the camera out of the jacket to throw it to the ground. He stamped down on it hard, just for good measure. Then he turned to the horrified Eridan. 

"She'd rip your throat out? She's viscous? Her favourite book is called 'The Dreamer' for fucks sake. get a fucking grip you little.... you know what, nevermind. Drop this, you guys. She'd just a kid."  
"She's a kid who ruined my reputation!" Slick hissed.  
"And mine!" Eridan added. Even Slick rolled his eyes.  
"I tried to expose the ugly baby so her crazy mothers bashed in my eye. They faked the runt's miscarriage."

"I don't give a shit!" Dave threw his hands up.  
Eridan scoffed. "I bet he's going for the dowry! Hers is big, you know, because she so hideous!"  
"You're a fucking asshole--"

"Hey!" Slick stepped between the two boys before they could kill each other all over the nice part of town. "Hate to interrupt your testosterone battle, but we have an audience." The cat sweater girl and Meenah-Condesca Harley herself stood at the gate of the Harley house, staring at him with the reporter who was her worst nightmare and the kid who got away without the gag order.  
"Shit. No. This isn't what it looks like. Hey!" 

Dave took off at a sprint towards the house and the women screamed and turned tail to flee into the house, shutting the pedestrian gate. This didn't stop him, however and he used the ornate design on the double gates to launch himself into the driveway and sprint through the door, pushing past the two women while all three of them shouted different things to Jade. She appeared at the top of the stairwell.

"He's a spy! He's a spy for Slick!" Condesca wailed, drawing out several other residents of the house. Dave felt all eyes on him.  
"...Is that true?" She stared down at him from the second floor, and he felt even smaller.   
"Yes."

Heated discussion erupted, which eventually ended with Nepeta shouting out, "Maybe he can break it anyway! He's still a blueblood, his love can break the curse, yeah?"   
Mixed agreement came forward on that one, though Dave was only now realising the implications of the whole situation. A rock in his stomach appeared and grew heavier by the second. This time it was Jade who silenced the room. "I think that's for Max to decide," she pointed out icily, still glaring at him.   
"Well? Come on rich boy, it's the least you can do," Condesca towered over him menacingly, and he expected more noise, more time to thing. Though this time, nobody spoke. They were waiting.

Dave swallowed, because that was just it. That was for Max to decide. It was the least Max could do. He didn't even stop being Max when this whole gig was up, because he was never Max to begin with. But he wasn't Max, and he wasn't a 'blueblood', so what could he do? Say yes and disappoint her again? 

"I don't.... I don't think I can," he began.  
"Then get out of my house," she hissed over the railed, then turned away, the swirl of her black skirts the last of her to disappear from his sights.

With surprisingly strong hands, Condesca grasped him by the arm and marched him to the door. "Wait, you don't understand Lady, it's not--"  
"I understand enough, Leave and take that oily paper man with you. Don't forget to shut the gate on your way out!"

And that was that. He stumbled onto the gravel of the Harley driveway, shoved his hands in his pockets, and left. The van was already gone -- maybe it would be back, but he wouldn't. He'd lied enough already, she didn't need the expose on how he wasn't even who he said he was. And nobody did -- he'd crawl back into that basement and go back to being the nobody he always was. Maybe someday Jade would find someone who could give her what she wanted. 

Didn't make him feel any less shitty, though.

//END OF ACT ONE//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! That was a bit tedious as it didn't really change POV but I felt those scenes were necessary from his perspective, to make sure it was clear what was going on with the Max/Dave fiasco.


	5. Change

//John//

"She's not answering her door," John sighed quietly as he sat down next to his brother, Jake. They sat in the bright sunroom at the back of the house, where the sun hit most of the day. The glass walls displayed the almost wild beauty of their somewhat vast property, the ancient-seeming trees scattering a carpet of autumn leaves on the lawn.  
"Just give her some space, lad. She's had a jolly rough time," Jake replied, his eyes not lifting away from his archaeology textbook. John knew she shouldn't be bothering his study, but he'd switched cartidges in his DS at least three times and none of them could keep his attention past the title screen. He was worried about his sister. Well, half-not-sister.

Though they weren't related really, all three of the adopted Harley kids could have passed for cousins, at least. He couldn't say for sure about Jade, because her facial features wouldn't have most people think of her as 'human,' let alone as related to one. But aside from that, he supposed she would look somewhere between his Japanese mother and Mom (who he assumed to be Caucasian -- she was the Harley descendant after all and they'd been bluebloods in this country for generations.) As for the three other kids, well, cousins at best. Mostly due to the fact that Jane had skin way too dark to pass for a sister, and Jake's accent was way too Irish, even after his years in London, to pass for anyone directly blood related to the Harleys (ironically enough, his bio last name was English.) As for John, well he himself was the least exciting orphan from a home in the South-West, and he wasn't even the fun kind of south-westerner that sounded like a pirate. He didn't mind that so much though.

"You're probably right," John sighed, crossing his legs and practising making shadow puppets with his hands, though there was no hard light to do so in. "I'm surprised she hasn't cracked earlier. Honestly I think it's stupid that her happiness revolves around some rich brat liking her enough not to run and scream. I mean there are people born without feet and shit and they're perfectly fine! Maybe if.... well I think maybe springing it on them is half the issue. Maybe we should just tell them when they walk through the door?"  
"Or just make it known and see if anyone comes forward anyway." Jake sighed, rolling his neck after hours of hunching over textbooks. It was getting too dark to read anyway, so he closed the book. "I'm off to procure some tea. Care for a cup?"  
"Nah, but we should bring Jade some. Might cheer her up?"

The boys plodded through the house, which looked almost deserted in the dimming light and the quietness of the afternoon. Mother worked 'til late some nights and Mom was probably going over the next prospects from Jade in their parents' study. Jane was usually in the kitchen or reading in her room, if anywhere, so traffic in the halls and stairways at this hour was uncommon. They ran into nobody, not even Ms. Paint, on their way to the kitchen. 

Jake made the two cups while John attempted to tidy the small kitchen table of gossip and fashion magazines with a few cupcake books of Jane's mixed in. Mom's latest handbag was unzipped and stood gaping and sagging like some sort of half-dissected, colourful organ cut out of a unicorn. John wrinkled his nose and resisted the urge to fill it with glitter or something. Mom probably wouldn't mind the glitter anyway, if her attempts at scrapbooking were anything to go by.

"Done!" Announced Jake as the bin fell closed on the two teabags, and he picked up the mugs off the counter. John led the way upstairs, passing the door to Jade's study-slash-interrogation-chamber and rounding the corner to climb the short flight of steps that brought them level with her elevated room, situated in the middle of one of the towers on the side of the house. John knocked for Jake, who called out to her.

"Jade, I know you're feeling rather in the dumps at the moment so we thought we'd bring you tea." His words and the knock were met with no reply, and the boys exchanged looks. "Jade? Please, will you at least eat something? You haven't left that room all day and I'm willing to wager it smells like stale, unwashed youth in there. Trust me, John knows all about that stuff. Ouch!" He flinched when John pinched him on the arm for his comment. Still no reply.  
"Well we're not gonna stand here forever so we're gonna put it in the table next to the door then leave. Kay? Kay." John opened the door before Jake could protest, and he was setting the mug down when John caught his arm. "Bro. I know a pile of pillow when I see one."  
"So?" Jake sighed, straightening to take a sip of his tea.  
"So, I see one."

Jake set his tea down and walked slowly toward the mound of blankets. "Jade? Are you there?" Cautiously, he reached forward and peeled the covers back slowly, but there was nothing but a human-shaped pile of teddy bears and pillows. "Jade!?" He called, running to check the study through the mirror and behind her screen. Nowhere. "Did she leave the room?"  
"If she left the room, she wouldn't pretend she was in bed, John said carefully.  
"What are you saying? Of course she's left the room," Jake threw the pillows aside and checked under the bed. "Maybe she's just messing with us?"  
"No, numbnuts, she didn't just leave the room. She left the house!" John exclaimed. "Look at the drawers! They're all pulled open and way empty."

Jake stared at him and set his tea on her end table, letting it sink in. He wanted to be happy for her, but he couldn't. This was bad. She had nobody with her. She'd never even been outside before! "Okay, we can't get our knickers in a twist here. Maybe she hasn't been gone long! You go tell Mom, i'll start the car."

"Wait, why do I have to tell Mom?" John protested. "She's gonna punch the nearest yielding object. I yield!"  
"Because you can't drive yet, genius! Now go!"

//Jade//

"Aaaaah!" Jade flopped onto the creaky bed of her hotel room, glad to finally have that scarf off her face. Sure, the room was smaller than her room at home by a long shot, and it smelled of things she didn't care to put thought into identifying, but it was so... free! 

She unbuttoned her hooded coat, a black, knee length number that allowed for puffed skirts, with white faux fur around the cuffs and hood, and two points sewn into the seams of the hood where her ears could sit comfortably, though to anyone else it would simply look like a very fancy, animal-themed hood. The scarf she wore to hide her nose and teeth was a dark grey, and it lay discarded beside her. There wasn't much she could do about her eyes, especially when she only owned clear contacts (which she had forgotten, so her silly round glasses only added to the obscure ensemble) so she just hoped they would pass.

The first thing she did, fearless while wielding Mom's credit card, was order more candy than she'd ever eaten in one day from room service. Next, she rummaged through her bag to procure a very familiar little red book and sat comfortably in a chair by the window, enjoying her view of skyscrapers and bustling city nightlife. Carefully, as if handling glass, she opened the book's cover, faltering when she saw her childhood handwriting on the inside. In colourful crayon (mostly green) she had written 'Propety Of Jade' with lots of swirls and flowers and love hearts. Spelling error notwithstanding, the sight of her handwriting made her irate. "So that's how he knew it was my favorite," she muttered to herself, suddenly not feeling very much like reading after all. She set the book on the windowsill and contented herself with staring out at the lights of the city, until her eyes began to droop and she eventually crawled under the covers of the bed to drift off to sleep.

In the morning, she made her way downstairs and quickly snatched some city tourism pamphlets, pulling her hood low and avoiding the gazes of the hotel employees. She knew she looked ridiculous, but it would be worse if she took her disguises off, so she hurried on her merry way.

Luckily, the pamphlets she grabbed offered her at least one map and she proceeded to navigate the streets, leaving herself a bread crumb trail by drawing her path on the map with a pen she found in her room. Although she wasn't near much in the way of touristy destinations, just seeing people and streets was enough for her first walk, and for a while, she was in bliss. At least until she picked up a paper, and spotted a reasonably sized missing person's box on the front page.

"Have you seen this girl?" She read under her breath, skimming the item. It read '22 years old, 5'6". Long, wavy, dark hair, very green eyes, possibly glasses. Ran away from her Aunts' house on Thursday afternoon. Most likely wearing a disguise or masking clothes. Please pass any information on suspicious looking persons to the Harley family on xxx-xxx-xxx or contact police. Her family miss her and want her home.'

Troubled, Jade folded the newspaper, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching her, before making her way back in the direction she'd come. Damn! Mom wasted no time. And thought she felt a little sorry for her family, she wasn't going to go back. She was sick of the endless cycle of her shut-in life and she would learn to live with her face if she had to. Anything was better than even another five minutes with.... with Max Campion types. Never again would she allow that to happen to her. If she could never find someone who loved her despite her face, then she probably deserved to be repulsive and there was no point being a shut-in over it. No, she would live as normally as she could, and she was going to do that. 

Right after she called her family to tell them she was okay and not to look for her.

//Slick//

"Kid! Ey kid," Slick pounded his fist on the door of Eridan's town house, and after a few moments a maid opened the door. "Is the Ampora kid home? This is urgent." The face disappeared, and after what seemed like twenty minutes, the door opened all the way and Eridan was in the doorway, looking like he'd only just woken up.   
"What is it, Slick? You find another schmuck to bail on us?"  
Slick slapped the morning paper onto Eridan's chest. "The Harleys just posted a missing persons ad for their 'lost niece.' You know what this means don't you?"  
Eridan skimmed the paper, his furrowed brow slowly smoothing. "She got out!?"  
"Yeah. And we're gonna find her before they do. Come on!" Slick dragged him out of the house before he could even have a chance to fix his hair, and they climbed into Slick's newshound van.

"So uh, how are we gonna do that?" Eridan asked, strapping himself in.   
"We make a better ad, genius. Ever seen a police sketch? You're gonna help us draw up one of those."  
"Uh... i think so. But why? Wouldn't that help them?"  
Slick chuckled. "No, because they're scared to let people know their kid's got a dog face. We're not. And then, we offer the second part of the money we were stupid enough to give Max as reward for getting a photo of her face. A lot of people around here would kill for that kinda dough, ya dig?"

Eridan settled back in his seat. If they could pull this off, and expose her, his reputation would be restored and his father would stop thinking he was an insane disappointment. That girl was hideous and she was real and he would prove it, no matter what it took. The thought brought a smile to his face as he replied, "Yeah. I dig."


End file.
